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XIX

Weeds

Far below in the city, beneath the towering Red Keep and its residents within, something awful was happening. Civilians rushed home, heads ducked, drawing in the shutters. Around them, seemingly at random, the gold cloaks searched for children. Boy and girl alike were torn away from their mothers, picked out by the guards to meet a terrible fate. By sunset, the massacre – however small – was over. Without explanation, the bodies of those unlucky few were left to rot away.

The privilege of the higher classes was not to be concerned about such matters. Indeed, taking her supper alone in her room, Joanna was none the wiser of the suffering of nameless, faceless children in the city that seemed so far away. She opened the doors to her balcony, enjoying the sea breeze the way she liked to, pondering over which dish to dig into first. It was difficult to remember the last time she'd eaten dinner alone, or done anything on her own, and she took the chance to enjoy the company of her own thoughts. She loved the presence and attentions of her friends, but there was no person she agreed with more in the world than her own self.

For a brief time, she'd considered requesting the presence of her uncle, eager to hear firsthand the adventure he'd been on after they'd parted ways at the Crossroads Inn. Rumor was abound in the Red Keep now that he'd returned, some certainly fake and some certainly true. Joanna could, for the most part, suss out the real from the fake, but hearing the tale from the source was invaluable.

Not to mention, he probably deserved a far better apology than she one she'd given. Going to Ned Stark about his arrest rather than either of her parents probably hadn't helped his already precarious situation. If she had to swallow her pride and truly, meaningfully apologize to her uncle, it might as well be over dinner where she had more than enough wine to drown out her uncle's japes or admonitions.

A knock came at her door, and she frowned, hoping that she would have more time to decide whether to invite her uncle to eat.

"Who is it?" she called, resting her chin on her hand. The door opened and Ser Boros Blount stepped in. It was unusual, but not enough so to hold Joanna's attention. Best she figured, her mother sent him as a messenger for some complaint or another. "What is it now?"

"I've been sent by the King," Ser Boros answered. Joanna popped a grape into her mouth disinterestedly.

"Did he?" she snorted. "Gods. I can't imagine for what."

Ser Boros carefully closed the door behind him. As soon as it had thudded shut, he began to walk towards her with purpose. This caught her attention; the chair scraped across the floor as she stood abruptly, moving to put the table between her and the knight. He had drawn the dagger from his belt now. Her gaze darted across the room, trying to procure an escape route, a method of protection, anything.

"Whatever you think you're doing, I command you to stop it, now." Her voice wavered as she spoke.

"King Joffrey's orders," Ser Boros responded, lunging over the table to grab her. She cried out, trying to jerk away from him, but he caught her by the sleeve and pulled her around the table. He struggled to hold her with one arm as she flailed in his grasp, screaming and reaching back to scratch his face. When he raised the dagger, she threw her hands out, reaching for the blade.

She cried out again when she closed her hand around the blade, screaming as he tried to wrench it out of her grip, but she grabbed his wrist with her other hand to keep him at arms length. He cursed, grunting as he struggled against her. The dagger blade was pulled out of her hand with a great tug, and he brought it down again upon her. She tried to twist away from the blade, but held in his grip, it pierced the flesh of her shoulder.

Joanna lost her balance when Ser Boros's weight suddenly disappeared, tripping over tangled feet and tumbling to the floor. She cried out as she caught herself on her torn and bloodied hand, looking over her shoulder to find an unknown man with his sword hilt-deep in Ser Boros's gut. When he removed his sword and straightened up, leaving the knight's body to fall limp to the ground, Joanna saw that he was the companion who'd arrived at the tourney with her uncle.

She jumped violently when a hand came in contact with her shoulder, startled to find that Tyrion was standing beside her. He removed his hands from her, holding them out as if placating a wary dog. A rush of breath left her and her shoulders slumped, body shaking and weak.

"Gods," she said, voice wavering.

"Let me see you," said Tyrion, gently taking her injured hand in his. Once he had finished inspecting it, he turned his attention to her bloodied shoulder, reaching to touch it gently. "You need to see the Maester. Can you stand?"

She nodded, sniffling, suddenly aware of the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. Tyrion shepherded her down halls and up stairs until they reached the Tower of the Hand, his companion tailing them with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The quarters looked no different now than they had looked when Ned Stark had lived within them. Tyrion sat her at the seat of the desk, digging a length of fabric from a drawer to tie around her hand. Once she was settled, he dragged a chair from opposite the desk to sit facing her.

"Bronn, fetch Maester Pycelle and bring him here, quickly." Once Bronn was gone, he turned his attention to Joanna, lowering his voice gently. "Tell me what happened."

"I don't know," she said softly, trying to think. Everything in her brain was buzzing. It was like how she felt when she watched Ned Stark die only multitudes worse. She rubbed her wet and raw eyes with her uninjured hand. "I was just - just sitting there, eating my dinner. Ser Boros came in and said that Joffrey sent him. And then he -" her voice trembled and her shoulders shook, "he took out his dagger and he -"

"Alright," said Tyrion, shushing her softly and reaching to pat her knee. "You're safe now. I'll arrange for someone to clean up your room before the end of the night."

Joanna stared down at the bandage over her hand, watching the blood bloom and spread. Her shoulder was aching badly; she dreaded the thought of what the Maester would have to do to fix it. She had been hurt before, but she had never needed her skin stitched back together.

And yet, despite her pain, it wasn't her injuries at the fore of her mind. It was what Ser Boros had said when he walked in the room. He had come at her brother's behest. Did Joffrey truly hate her so? What had she done to deserve it? Perhaps it was simply opportunity, she thought. Perhaps she was enough of a nuisance, and he had the power to send someone to kill her, so he did. Or perhaps it was something else.

"Uncle Tyrion," she started, voice quiet but steadier than before. "Do you think it's true? The lie - the...the rumor about my mother and Uncle Jaime."

Tyrion frowned and looked at her face, calculating. She was lost in thought, staring blankly at the wall over her shoulder. She had been through enough trauma, he thought.

"People will create vicious lies to discredit you," he said.

"It's not about me," she replied. "I'm my father's daughter, a blind man could see it. But not Joffrey, right? That's what they say."

"Joanna," he said, almost sternly. "It's a rumor - nothing more."

"Not to Joffrey. He must think it's true." She nodded to herself, as though confirming what she was saying to be true. "He must, he must..."

The door opened, bringing Bronn and Maester Pycelle to the room. Pycelle made a beeline to Joanna; while he was occupied, Tyrion pulled Bronn to the doorway, keeping his voice low.

"Take my niece to her room once Pycelle is done," he said. "Stand at her door - don't leave her side. I'll be back later."

"And where are you going?" Bronn asked with a cocked eyebrow. Tyrion set his mouth in a line.

"To make arrangements."

Tyrion had been back in the city for barely a week, and already the list of things he needed to take care of was nearly taller than he was. He was preoccupied, at the moment, with thoughts of the day's events. He had planned to visit his niece to catch up with her, to finally have a proper conversation with her for the first time since the Crossroads Inn. He had almost not brought Bronn with him, and thank the gods he had. They were down the hall when they'd heard Joanna scream. If it had only been him, what could he have done?

Everything on his list had immediately been put below Joanna now. He'd left Bronn with her for the night in case Joffrey was so bold as to try again in the same night, and in the meantime, Tyrion had to handle everything else. He had planned to finish his supper before calling upon his sister to come to the Tower of the Hand, but she had beaten him to it. Cersei stormed in halfway through his meal, raving with one complaint or another and pacing across the room. He had tried to take a few more bites of food, before finally giving up and tossing his napkin on the table.

"Lord Janos Slynt was commander of the city watch, you had no right to exile him."

"I have every right," Tyrion said, "I am the King's Hand."

"You're serving as the King's Hand until Father gets here," she reminded. "I'm Queen Regent."

"Listen to me, Queen Regent, you're losing the people." She turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised. "Do you hear me?"

She laughed. "The people? You think I care?"

"You might find it difficult to rule over millions who want you dead. Half the city will starve when winter comes, the other half will plot to overthrow you. And your gold-plated thugs just gave them their rallying cry - the Queen slaughters babies."

The smug expression that was so at home on Cersei's face before began to disappear, and she stared at Tyrion with a hard look. A-ha, he thought. Confirmation. Cersei crossed the room to avoid looking at him. He turned in his seat to watch her, trying to gauge what she knew.

"It wasn't you who gave the order, was it? Joffrey didn't even tell you." She didn't say anything, didn't turn to look at him. She stood near the balcony like she couldn't even hear him. "Did he tell you? I imagine that would be even worse."

"He did what needed to be done," she said simply. Tyrion's jaw set and an ire like only Cersei could raise rose in him.

"I see," he said, voice hard. "And I suppose you decided that Joanna was a necessary casualty? Thank the gods I had gone to see her or she'd be lying cold and dead as we speak!"

"You think you'll have half the influence that I have on Joffrey?" she asked, finally moving to pace once more. "You won't find being Hand of the King half as easy as you think. You won't find ruling half as easy as you think. This is what it is - lying on a bed of weeds, ripping them out by the root one by one before they strangle you in your sleep."

"So Joanna is a weed, I see. I hardly think - "

"I don't care what you think! You've never taken it seriously - you haven't, Jaime hasn't!" She sat, defeated. Her voice softened. "Joffrey thinks his greatest threat is Joanna. I have to keep them both safe. It's all fallen on me."

As has Jaime - repeatedly - according to Stannis Baratheon, he thought, on instinct. He almost didn't say it. But he knew, now, that Cersei hadn't known that Joffrey had ordered the massacre or the attack on Joanna. Now he needed to know if the reason behind them was real.

He was almost regretful as the words came out of his mouth, especially when the door that Cersei had opened to him - which he had expected to slam closed - didn't shut immediately. She swallowed thickly.

"You're funny," she said. "You've always been funny. But none of your jokes will ever match the first one, will they?" The vitriol in her voice began to rise. "You remember - back when you ripped my mother open on your way out of her and she bled to death."

Her words had hurt her more than he'd expected them to.

"She was my mother too," he said.

"Now they're gone," she continued - their mother, their father, their brother. All people that Cersei cared for infinitely more than Tyrion. "For the sake of you. There's no bigger joke in the world than that."

She had hit a sore spot for him, but only because he had hit one on her. Cersei gave as good as she got, and Tyrion got the information that he was looking for. A rumor would never bother her this much if it wasn't true. She stood and crossed the room to the door. Tyrion watched her retreat for a moment before finding his voice again.

"I'm sending Joanna away from the city," he said. Cersei whirled around, renewed in her anger and pain.

"You can't - !"

"I can, and I will. I've arranged for her to stay at Casterly Rock until the war is over."

"The war could go on for ages, you can't possibly - "

"As Hand of the King, I have the choice between planning Joanna's travel or planning her funeral," he cut in sharply. Cersei's mouth snapped shut. "I think you and I would both prefer the former."

She stared him down, a deep frown on her face. She lowered her voice again when she spoke next.

"Joanna is my daughter, you cannot take her away from me."

"The Red Keep is no longer safe for her," Tyrion responded, lowering his pitch to match hers. "I want her safety just as much as you do."

Cersei huffed, but with no further protests, she turned and swept out of the room. Once alone, Tyrion heaved a long sigh. For a split second, he wished that his family's messes were not his burden. When that second was over, he downed his goblet of wine and continued to make his plans.

A/N: Helloooo! Welcome to my first chapter since the show ended. Hopefully the ending of the show didn't make you all swear off Game of Thrones for good. I, personally, think it could have been done WAY better, but I didn't think it was the worst thing I've ever seen with my own two eyes.

New, very interesting developments for Joanna! She's finally getting out of King's Landing, and I'm really so excited to show you guys what's next for her. Hopefully you're excited to read it!

Big big big thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, annavale23, Crystal-Wolf-Guardain-967, RulerOfCats, Lt-Spork89, FoAteAZombie, camelotprincess1, HPuni101, and TheMorningMist for your comments! It really is so motivating to see you guys reading and interacting with my work, thank you so much for taking the time to leave comments! Also, huge thanks to you silent readers who are adding this story to their faves and follows - I see and appreciate y'all too!

Hopefully I'll be back pretty soon with the next installment! I've been focusing a lot lately on how I want to end this story (about a million years from now lol) so it's been really refreshing to get back into what's going on. Thank you all for tuning in!

Until next time,

Rex